


Justice You Shall Pursue

by FanchonMoreau



Category: The Fall (TV 2013)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:20:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27083281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanchonMoreau/pseuds/FanchonMoreau
Summary: Stella wished she could say she was surprised when Tanya called to tell her she was worried about how Tom was treating Rose.Stella and Reed watch over Rose as she travels to England to do something she can't do in Northern Ireland. In a world of terrible injustice and unrelenting danger, how is it possible to find hope? Stella isn't sure that it is. Post S3.
Relationships: Stella Gibson/Reed Smith
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	Justice You Shall Pursue

**Author's Note:**

> This fic deals with emotional abuse and abortion, and mentions rape, abduction, and other violence, as consistent with the show's canon. Please read with care. It is set about a year after the end of series three, circa 2013.
> 
> This fic is dedicated to the late Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, may her memory be a blessing.

_“Justice, justice you shall pursue, that you may thrive…” - Deuteronomy 16:20_

It was raining in Liverpool. 

They weren’t supposed to go to Liverpool, not at first. Tanya was going to fly with Rose to London, and Stella would meet them there. And that was the plan, until the time came for Rose to purchase the plane ticket. She called Tanya, weeping, barely able to draw breath, convinced that if she bought a plane ticket Tom would find out, and if Tom found out, what would happen then? How would he punish her? 

So they took the ferry—Belfast to Liverpool. Stella flew up from London, and all three of them piled into Tanya’s car and drove it onto the boat. Tanya packed every anti-nausea medication she knew to be safe for pregnancy, but Rose didn’t even need them. She just stood on deck for hours, staring at the ocean. 

And Stella and Tanya watched over her. 

It was ten at night when they docked. They drove right to the beautiful hotel that Stella booked for them and got Rose settled into her room. Stella surveyed it approvingly: king bed, big bath, waterfront view. Chocolates on the pillow. She checked the locks and the closets before she left Rose there alone. 

“Tanya and I are right on the other side of the wall, if you need anything,” Stella said, and she closed the door.

Stella and Tanya had an adjoining room with two beds, the kind clearly meant for children who were staying with their parents. It wasn’t an arrangement Nancy and Cody were ready for yet, but it wouldn’t be unfamiliar to Tanya. Her youngest was seven, and her eldest was almost ten. 

Stella secured the door chain and locked the deadbolt with a decisive clack. She was vaguely aware of Tanya dropping her bag on the bed nearest to the door connecting them to Rose’s room.

Stella smiled to herself. Tanya was looking out for Rose, even in unconscious decisions like this. She felt a rush of affection for her, not for the first time on this journey. The Spector case ended nearly a year ago—Stella assumed her lingering fondness for Tanya was just a consequence of the case’s larger emotional toll. Now she wasn’t so sure. 

“I checked Tom’s Facebook about an hour ago,” Tanya said, breaking Stella’s reverie. “He and his mates are having a very boozy time in Dublin.” 

Stella sighed, then toed off her shoes and collapsed on the remaining bed. Tanya had sent her a link to Tom’s Facebook page a few days ago, and she pulled it up. There was a drunk Tom Stagg and a group of equally drunk men standing in front of a pub on Temple Bar, all looking like they were cheering for something. The whole thing was a school reunion of some sort, if Stella remembered correctly. Rose and the kids were ostensibly staying with Rose’s parents in Bangor while Tom was away. 

The kids were there, anyway. In the safe, loving care of Rose’s parents. And away from their father. 

“Good for him,” Stella said with a scoff. She didn’t want to spend another moment talking about Tom Stagg. 

She wished she could say she was surprised when Tanya called to tell her she was worried about how Tom was treating Rose. That was almost three weeks ago, now. Tanya called late on a Friday night, and it was the first time Stella had heard her voice in months. 

“It’s about Rose,” Tanya said, her voice hushed and strained, as if she could be overheard at any time. “About her and Tom. He’s not… it’s not right between them. It hasn’t been for a while.” 

She listened intently as Tanya told her about how Tom didn’t like it when she went out with friends too much because according to Rose, he didn’t think he could trust her. He said that he was sometimes embarrassed to be seen with her because everyone knew what happened, everyone knew the kind of men she slept with. 

Stella closed her eyes as she listened. _I told him to be patient_ , she thought desperately. _I told him to be tender_. 

“And here’s the thing,” Tanya started carefully, “me and the rest of Rose’s friends, we’ve been supporting her as best we can. But now she’s pregnant, and I don’t think we’re enough anymore.” 

Stella stayed on the phone with her well into the night and into the early morning. Clinics, doctors, shelters, lawyers, they tried to sort out all of it. Stella went to bed with Tanya’s quiet voice saying _we’ll get her out of this, I know we will_ , echoing in her head, lulling her to sleep like a gentle wave. 

They couldn’t do everything they set out to do for Rose. But she had her procedure at the clinic tomorrow, and an appointment with a local social worker, a friend of one of Stella’s colleagues, to talk her through how she and the kids could safely leave Tom. 

It was so inadequate after everything Rose had been through. It was so much less than she deserved. 

Stella looked up from where she was lying on her bed to see Tanya just leaving the bathroom. She’d removed her makeup and changed into her pyjamas—grey leggings and an oversize Stranmillis University College T-shirt. She looked as tired as Stella felt, like the day and the weeks leading up to it had aged her. But she also looked calm, content. Ready to go to sleep and start again in the morning. 

“Are you getting ready for bed?” Tanya asked. 

Stella nodded but she didn’t move. Tanya studied her and then inclined her head toward Stella’s bed, asking. Stella shifted over to make room for her, and Tanya laid down right next to her. Without speaking, without even acknowledging the space between them, they both turned on their sides to face each other. 

The silence between them was heavy, but not awkward. Tanya reached out to touch Stella’s arm, and Stella understood that it was an invitation to confide in her. And in the moment she was grateful that Tanya was giving her this and had spared her the indignity of having to ask for it. 

“I wanted justice for Rose,” Stella began. “And she never got it. And now I feel like I’m shuttling her from cage to cage.” 

Tanya shook her head. Her eyes were dark and serene, but Stella could feel her mind working behind them. “I don’t think it’s that simple,” she said. 

“How do you mean?” Stella countered, quicker and sharper than she intended. 

Tanya was quiet, letting Stella’s anger flare between then and then fade. She smiled sadly. “The law can’t be the only way to get justice. I’ve been in enough courtrooms to know better.” She paused, searched Stella’s face. “I suspect you have too.” 

Stella took a big breath in, and then let it out. She knew Tanya was right. She wanted to let it go, but she could still picture that terrible day recovering Rose, and so clearly. It was sunny that morning. She navigated the forest through iridescent shafts of light, but she couldn’t see the one thing she was looking for. And when they did find Rose, they had to haul her out of the darkness. They released her from the boot of Spector’s car and slowly and painfully led her back to her life. But what kind of life was that, exactly? An abusive husband, an unwanted pregnancy. A long journey across the Irish Sea. 

And what did Spector get? Oblivion. Freedom from pain.   
  
“Tell me what it looks like, then,” Stella rasped out. Her eyes were burning from holding back tears. “Tell me what justice is for Rose.” 

Tanya’s hand drifted from Stella’s arm to her shoulder. Stella leaned in and silently willed her to come closer. She wanted Tanya to touch her face, her neck, her hair. 

But Tanya didn’t move. She merely lowered her gaze so that she could look Stella properly in the eye as she spoke. “She lives a wonderful, fulfilling life, on her own terms,” she said. And then she smiled—a full, genuine smile that warmed Stella through. “With good people loving her and caring for her. People like you.” 

Stella turned Tanya’s words over in her head. She realised with some astonishment that it was the kindest thing anyone had said to her in a very long time. She couldn’t fathom how she could return the sentiment without simply repeating Tanya’s words back to her. 

She reached down and took Tanya’s free hand. “You were the one who was there every moment that Rose needed you. You’ve fought for her, every day.” 

Tanya heaved a sigh, and she draped her arm around Stella’s shoulders and embraced her. Stella’s whole body flooded with relief. She’d wanted this since Belfast. Not even sex, just being close. Back in Belfast, she thought it was a desire she could satisfy with sex, but now she was acknowledging that she might have been wrong. 

Stella tucked a piece of hair behind Tanya’s ear. She could see a little more clearly, now.

“There’s something here, isn’t there,” said Tanya. It wasn’t a question. “Between us. I’m not imagining it.” 

Stella looked down at their joined hands. She knew better than to think Tanya was just talking about sex. Stella was used to having this conversation, usually a few weeks or so into a casual sexual relationship, and it always went the same way. They wanted something she didn’t want to give, or they wanted a place in her life that she wasn’t willing to make for them.

But that wasn’t the conversation she was going to have with Tanya. 

“No,” Stella admitted quietly. “You’re not imagining it.” 

Tanya nodded, looked away for a moment, and then leaned in. It was a whisper of a kiss, unbearably gentle, and after just a few seconds, Tanya pulled away. Stella searched her eyes and saw the last of her doubt disappear.

“Tomorrow,” Tanya murmured. “We get Rose sorted. And then tomorrow—” 

“Let me come back with you to Belfast,” Stella said, speaking just as the idea came to her head. It was a half-formed thought more than a proper plan; she was supposed to take the train straight from Liverpool to London. But wasn’t ready to leave Tanya and Rose. She couldn’t shake the notion that whatever she came here to do wasn’t done. 

“Back to Belfast?” Tanya echoed. “I don’t understand.” 

Stella ran her thumb over Tanya’s wrist. “I go back to Belfast with you and Rose. We get her and her children out of their house. And then you and I—” 

“We talk,” Tanya finished. She squeezed Stella’s hand. “We work it out.” 

Stella stifled a sigh. She had no idea what would come of this. Tanya had children, a life in Belfast. A separation that had recently become a divorce. Stella had very little experience with the kind of relationship Tanya would expect. She spent so much of her energy keeping her own world safe that she didn’t know what she had to offer someone else’s. 

She wanted to go back to Belfast anyway. 

“We do,” Stella said.

“Okay,” Tanya said. She leaned in and kissed Stella once, twice on the lips. “You should get ready for bed.” 

Stella hummed in agreement. She was so exhausted that it took her a few seconds to orient herself and maneuver herself off the bed. Once she fished her night clothes and toiletries out from her bag, she retreated to the bathroom and shut the door behind her. 

Usually Stella’s evening routine was soothing in its monotony. But tonight every step—the serum, the eye cream, the moisturizer—was laborious. Her skin was fine, or as fine as it could be after spending the entire day traveling. But she felt heavy, weighed down in a way she couldn’t identify.

She closed her eyes and breathed in. Tom and Rose should be healing, reconnecting, and, when the time was right, happily anticipating the birth of their third child. No late-night phone calls or ferry rides made in secret. No need for Stella to fly up from London at all. 

Stella looked down and let a few of the tears she’d been holding back since the beginning of evening fall. Tomorrow was going to be a difficult day for them. For Rose. 

_She lives a wonderful, fulfilling life, on her own terms._

Tanya’s words came back to her. They seemed like a missive from a much kinder world. Living victims, Stella thought—Tanya hadn’t spoken to as many rape victims as she had. The truth was Rose could live happily for decades, and it would do nothing to dull the horrors of this past year. 

She shut off the lights in the bathroom, took a deep breath, and padded back to the bedroom. Tanya was dozing on top of the covers, and there was just enough room for Stella to lie down next to her. 

“Is this okay?” Stella asked softly, gesturing to the bed. 

Tanya nodded, and then smiled. “I want you to.” 

Stella couldn’t help but smile back. She turned down the bedspread, and they both climbed under the covers. Tanya kissed her briefly before rolling over and turning out the lights. 

“Good night, Stella,” she whispered.

Stella watched Tanya curl into herself protectively and drift off. Sleep didn’t come to Stella that easily. She took a few even breaths—in and out, in and out—but her pulse still hammered hard. She needed a distraction.

She hadn’t brought a journal. Not for a hotel stay in an unfamiliar city. It was irrational; she thought she was above it. Apparently not.

She stared up at the ceiling and tried closing her eyes. She focused on the warmth of Tanya’s body next to her and hoped it was enough to chase all the rest of it away. 

* * *

Stella woke to the sound of someone knocking at the door.

It was the door that connected their room to Rose’s. Stella shot out of bed and rushed to open it, expecting to find Rose upset, or sick, or even trying to hurt herself. 

Rose looked tired and a little pale, but mostly okay. She offered Stella a faint smile. “Hi.” 

Stella furrowed her brow. “Are you alright? Do you need anything?” 

Rose just shrugged. “Fancied sleeping in here for a bit,” she said. “Is that okay?” 

Stella studied Rose carefully. She hadn’t been crying, so far as she could tell. She didn’t look shaky or withdrawn. “Nightmare?” Stella asked.

Rose shook her head and then shifted her weight from side to side. “I was vomiting,” she admitted, a bit sheepish. “Morning sickness. And then I couldn’t get back to sleep.” 

Stella nodded. Tanya was the one Rose needed, for both emotional support and medical advice. But Tanya looked so peaceful as she slept, tucked on her side and clutching a spare pillow in her arms. Stella couldn’t possibly wake her.

“I have mouthwash if you need,” Stella said.

Rose brightened. “That would be brilliant, thanks. And then you can sleep in my room. Bed’s bigger anyway.”

Stella reflexively glanced back at the empty bed beside her. Rose’s eyes followed hers, and she released a small _oh_ when she realised that Stella and Tanya were sharing a bed.

“There’s no need,” Stella said gently. She reached over and turned down the empty bed’s blankets. 

Rose fixed her gaze back on Stella, and Stella stared back at her, looking for any sign of discomfort or disapproval. She found none. Surprise, perhaps. But then: understanding. “Perfect,” said Rose. “Mouthwash?” 

Stella swung the door fully open. “In the bathroom.” 

Stella lingered by the window while she listened to Rose pad around the bathroom. She parted the heavy curtains just a little and saw the first light of dawn hitting the River Mersey. It was five am, then, maybe five fifteen. 

Rose came back into the room, and she seemed more at ease. “Thank you,” she said. Her voice was raspy, probably from the vomiting, but it reminded Stella of those first perilous days after they recovered her from the woods, when she could barely speak. 

Stella closed her eyes and tried to put that thought out of her mind. 

Rose got under the covers, sighed, and tucked her knees under the chin. She looked so impossibly small. “There’s a town,” she began, “in America called Belfast. I looked it up online last night. It’s like, New Hampshire or Vermont, I think. First Americans named it after where they were originally from, so, Belfast. Now it’s a seaside tourist town, just a few shops, a marina, good seafood. Maybe a few thousand people. I was thinking when everything’s settled I could take the kids and we could rent a house. Take a wee boat out sailing. I used to sail with my dad as a girl, did I tell you that?” 

She hadn’t. Outside of the rape, the abduction, the abuse, all of it, Stella barely knew Rose. She wasn’t Rose’s friend, not in any way that mattered. 

She thought back to the questions the kind doctor in Belfast asked after Spector attacked her. _Do you have any real friends?_ As if most people he encountered did not. And perhaps he was right in a way, that most of the people you meet in life are blown in by circumstance, and any bonds you form can prove to be as changeable as the air itself. 

She didn’t want that for her and Rose. 

Stella sat at the very end of Rose’s bed and turned to face her. “For me and my father, it was swimming,” Stella told her. “We went to a beach near Chichester, and he’d take me out very early, before the crowds would arrive. We’d jump through the waves together.” 

Rose looked back at her with bright, wet eyes. “That’s so sweet,” she said. She collapsed against the pillows, and for a moment, she seemed distant, as if she was floating away. “You and your dad. So sweet.” Her words slurred gently as she relaxed into sleep. 

Stella didn’t move from her place at the end of Rose’s bed. She scanned the room and found that everything was still, and Rose and Tanya were both fast asleep. She wondered idly what they were dreaming of. Maybe Rose’s subconscious would bring her to that beach in American Belfast and let her have some peace before the day began.

As it was, it was already morning. Stella couldn’t be bothered to check the time on her phone, but she knew it from the sunrise and could feel it in her body. Five fifteen, or close to it. She’d picked a hotel with a pool and packed her kit because she wanted to have a few quick early morning swims. But now she looked to the empty space on the bed next to Tanya and realised that wasn’t going to happen this morning.

So Stella climbed back into bed. She rolled onto her back and listened to Tanya’s deep, even breaths. In a few hours, they’d all wake up, get in a cab, and escort Rose to her appointment for a surgical abortion. They’d spend the rest of the weekend in Liverpool and then all three of them would return to Belfast. She and Tanya would help Rose leave her home. And she’d sleep with Tanya—finally.  
  
Stella shifted slightly so she could see Tanya’s back. She resisted the impulse to reach out and stroke her hair, which had always smelled so nice in Belfast and looked so soft. It looked so soft now. Like her hands were, too, and her voice. 

It had been so long since Stella felt this tenderly toward anyone. Over the years, she built up a muscle memory that pushed those relationships away. She wasn’t sure yet if Tanya would be the exception. But she knew that she wanted to meet Tanya’s daughters, even get to know them properly, and see how it went with Tanya from there. And find a way to keep Rose in her life, too. 

And then, who could say. The specter of past terror was never far, and it provided no protection from future harm. But still. Maybe they’d all go to Belfast in Maine, Stella was almost certain it was in Maine, together. From how Rose told it, it was the kind of town with shops that sold novelty jumpers and stuffed animals that wore little t-shirts and other precious tokens that children loved. Rose and her children, Tanya and her children, and Stella beside them, _with_ them, no longer merely watching over. 

_A wonderful, fulfilling life._

Stella clung to that thought hard as sleep washed over her and her dreams began.

**Author's Note:**

> The title and epigraph of this fic come from a crucial commandment in the Jewish tradition. In the original Hebrew, that first phrase is _tzedek, tzedek tirdof_. Justice Ginsburg had these words, in the Hebrew, displayed in a painting in her office, and she cited them as part of the value system that drove her work. The Hebrew words were also inscribed on one of her now infamous collars.


End file.
